


Who Wouldn't Be Angry?

by lyall



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyall/pseuds/lyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: “Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for six months!”</p><p>Modern AU Bellarke. One Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Wouldn't Be Angry?

**Author's Note:**

> Based in modern setting. In my head, Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia etc were superheroes who worked in the night to save people, but things started to get dangerous, and when the treats started coming Bellamy was forced to disappear and fake his death, hence the following scene.

He was so hungry. That was all he could think as he stumbled into the familiar kitchen, swinging open to top right cupboard and pulling out some cereal. His hands reached for a bowl that was drying, and in his mind he registered that it was still slightly wet. With little consideration for the noise he was making he poured the cereal and went to eat before stopping. 

Milk. Yes, milk is what would make this meal. He leant back on his chair, swinging open the fridge, his eyes falling on a half empty carton of milk, and not a whole lot else in the fridge. He grinned knowing that she had probably been too busy working doubles at the hospital to have stocked up recently. It was just like her to care so much for others, but forget about herself. 

As he poured the milk, it occurred to him that he should have checked the date on it. Knowing Clarke it would be a week out of date. His first large mouthful of cereal told him that it was okay. He let out a satisfied groan before taking another large mouthful. Cereal never tasted so good. His stomach aches for the food, and he couldn't get it down his fast enough. Life on the run did not feed as well as he had hoped. 

As he was about to take his third spoonful, the light in the kitchen flickered on and the sound of something (a baseball bat - he guessed) clattering on the floor made him pause. But only for a second before he continued to eat. She had found him then. 

“Bellamy?” A soft voice behind him whispered, footsteps shuffled around the table and into his eye line. Clarkes face was a picture of shock. Her blonde hair was wild around her face, and there were dark circle under her eyes. She looked thinner than the last time he had seen her, he wondered if she was eating properly. “Is it really you?”

Bellamy placed the spoon down, swallowing, and smiled a half smile that he knew used to make her weak at the knees.

“In the flesh.” He raised his arms slightly in proof. Clarke's eyes fixed on his, her chest heaving as she breathed to steady herself.

“But… but you’re dead. I-I went to your funeral. I cried.” She said, her voice unsteady in a way that didn’t suit the Clarke he knew. A wave of guilt washed over him, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Yeah, about that. I – er – faked it. Had to get away for a bit. Things were getting nasty, all the backlash against what we were doing… well you know.” It was the truth, but not the whole truth. There was a lot Clarke didn’t know, and Bellamy had made sure of that. Octavia knew a little, but the true details - those Bellamy guarded well.

A muscle in Clarke's jaw jumped as she clenched it shut, “No, actually, I don’t know.” She crossed her arms in a way that always signalled trouble. Bellamy stood up, stepping out of Clarke reach, his hands raised in surrender. She stepped towards him, her eyes a storm. He gulped.

“Now Clarke, I know I should have sent you a sign or something, but … but it was…”

Her eyes flashed, “It was what?”

“Complicated?” He finished lamely. And that was the spark to ignite the flame. Clarke lunged at him, shoving him backward into the wall with all her force. Being caught off guard Bellamy stumbled backwards.

“COMPLICATED!” She fumed, pushing him again, “That doesn’t even begin to cover it! You turn up here, AFTER ALL THIS TIME! And… and you tell me it was complicated!”

“Clarke-“ Bellamy said weakly, knowing that he would only fuel her anger further by talking.

“Wait until I tell Octavia!” Clarke declared, and evil glint in her eye, her hand reaching for the landline. Bellamy looked at her sheepishly making Clarke freeze. “She already knows doesn’t she?” He nodded, preparing himself for what was next.

Clarke lunged again, flailing and punching every inch of his body she could reach. This time Bellamy was prepared and managed to shield himself, and with all care, push Clarke back away from him. She went to go for him again, but he stepped behind a chair, using it as a shield.

“Woooooah there Princess!” She faltered like he knew she would as he used the old nickname, “I’m sensing you might be a little angry with me…” He said slowly, remaining behind the chair and out of harms way. Clarke's chest heaved with her heavy breathing, and her eyes were narrowed in on him like a hawk looking at its prey.

“Angry? Who wouldn’t be angry when you ate all my cereal and faked your death for six months!” 

“Okay, I admit, the cereal was my bad. I'll get you some more, I promise…” He said lightheartedly, glancing at the empty box on the kitchen table knowing she probably wouldn’t have time to replace it with all her shifts.

“Bellamy” The words came out of her mouth like a plea, “You were dead. I thought you were dead.” At this, all the anger actually seemed to seep out of her, making her look somewhat deflated. Bellamy’s heart twisted in an uncomfortable way. She pulled out a chair and sat down. Bellamy followed suit. Clarke was looking at him in an entirely different way now.

“I know.” He said dumbly. “I know what I put you through… wasn’t fair.” Clarke ran a hand through her hair, making the curls even wilder.

“It wasn’t even close to being fair Bellamy. You left me alone, without a note, or a sign that you were okay. I thought I would never see you again, and now you turn up in the middle of the night, eating my food, all jokes and smiles and expect me to be okay with it.” She looked exhausted, and Bellamy knew it wasn’t from her sleep being disrupted. He had been on the run for so long, he never had time to think about what his leaving and the faking of his death would do to Clarke.

He had missed her. Every second of everyday, he had thought about being reunited with her. But not once had he thought about her coming back to their apartment alone, and what toll that would have had on her. It occurred to him then how selfish he could truly be. 

“I never expected you to be okay with it. I- I hoped, but not expected. I did a Bellamy Blake. I did something and had no concern for the consequences of my actions. Princess, you have to know that I did what I did to keep you safe.” He needed her to understand that. They were coming for her, and unless he had disappeared and made it look convincing, they would have hurt her to hurt him. And he couldn’t let that happen. SHe was far too important.

Clarke let out a tired sigh, looking at the clock on the wall, which read 2AM.

“I have work tomorrow.” She said. She paused, biting her lip in a way that used to drive him mad… and it still did. “Are you back for good? Or is this a one time thing because you wanted some cereal and all the stores were shut?” Even Bellamy couldn’t ignore the glimmer of hope in her voice.

“I don’t know. I just knew I had to see you.” He gave as much truth as the situation would allow. Lying to her now would only send her further away and he didn’t want that. At his words Clarke shook her head, and stood up. She stared at him for a moment before walking towards the door back to her room.

His heart sunk. 

She stopped in front of the door and looked back at him. She reached out her hand to him. 

“Are you coming then?”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a prompt I stumbled across and figured might make a good Bellarke. Let me know what you think!


End file.
